Hi I am Urijah! I like archery and I am trying to write a fiction story. I am twelve years old and I hope you like the post.
I would like to thank Benjamin from Brothers Campfire for letting me do a post on his blog. I hope you enjoy the life and story of Askimet. Enjoy!!!!
Askimet walked through the town slowly as he thought of things that had happened recently at his home on the outskirts of the town Nordoc. His father had died from bandits and his mother was sick from a deadly disease.
Askimet soon reached the building he wanted to reach. It was the Apothecary.
It was a small building with flowers surrounding it. It also had a small window on the second floor of the building, made mostly of stone bricks and wood. He knocked on the door and waited. Soon an old man answered the door and he said “what do you want?” “My mother is sick and needs care and medicine,” he answered. He told me to come in and write on a paper my mother’s illness.
He went into the Apothecary and took in his surroundings. First thing that he saw was all the medicines, then he noticed that there were four guards guarding the door. he felt secure with them nearby just as I had felt with my father nearby. I walked to the table and sat down. He paid the old man two coins and left the building.
He walked for a mile but for some reason, he felt like he was being followed by someone or something. He knew it had to be small or he would hear it. If it was a large animal he would notice it because the town’s people would be frightened and screaming unless it was a zemlock.
Zemlocks are strong, silent, and hard to be spotted. He kept walking and tried to show no fear. That’s when he saw it was a brown figure about eight feet tall. He thought it was a tree and kept walking until he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. Unsheathing his sword he turned around. It was a Zemlock!
He was too close to the outskirts of town for help. The only thing he could do was fight for his life. His father was a great Viking soldier and had taught him how to use a sword. This was the first time he had seen a Zemlock. it was a huge hairy beast with a wax shell over the hair. The shell was strong and thick or so it seemed. Askimet’s left shoulder bled and it led him into a rage.
Cutting the wax with his sword, it got stuck for a moment. In that moment the Zemlock swung a strike at his head. He ducked and the Zemlock hit himself in the arm. It screamed a scream of agony and despair but Askimet knew it was luck that it had missed. He was afraid, knowing that this beast was rare to see and only the best of soldiers survived. Unsticking his sword he stabbed where he had cut before. With the last of his strength he stabbed in and up and said, “Even though I am a Viking, Lord help me.”
Then he crumpled over on the dead Zemlock. He was unconscious for a full five minutes before waking up. The man standing above him looked kind and gentle. He had dark hair with brown eyes. He said he had come because he felt like he needed to.
Looking at his shoulder where the beast had originally struck He saw that it was miraculously healed. Feeling weak, he got up and thanked the man for checking on him. Then he noticed the dead beast. His sword was stuck and he could not pull it out of the beast. He asked the man to help him. The man looked at the beast then at him. “You killed that !?” He told me only the killer of the beast can take the sword out. He tugged on the sword some more.
It slowly came out with a yellowy color on the blade. As he pulled it out the man was so surprised that he left wide-eyed. Askimet went to his house. He had no idea what killing a Zemlock really meant.